


If I Had a Heart, I Could Love You

by my_soul_is_fire



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Hannigram - Freeform, M/M, Season 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-24
Updated: 2015-06-24
Packaged: 2018-04-05 23:15:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4198728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/my_soul_is_fire/pseuds/my_soul_is_fire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal is waiting for Will's return, but could never imagine what happens next.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If I Had a Heart, I Could Love You

**Author's Note:**

> A quick fanfic I wrote yesterday! Events happen after episode 3!  
> My apologies for my English mistakes!  
> The title is from "If I Had a Heart" by Fever Ray and the quote before the text is "Mercy" by Hurts!  
> Enjoy! :)

-

  
_Fill me with rage, and bleed me dry..._  
_And feed me your hate..._  
_In the echoing silence I shiver each time that you say :_  
_Don't cry, mercy, there's too much pain to come..._

 _**-** _ _  
_

The _Cattedrale di Santa Maria del Fiore_ is strangely calm, and Hannibal appreciates it. Florence is asleep, and he can only see the moon shining through the stained glass windows, projecting shadows on the cold floor. If he raises his head, he can see the gray columns trying to reach the dark sky, like a man buried alive pushing through the dirty soil.

Hannibal steps back and admires his work. He prepared something for Will. He knows that he'll return here one day or another. So he made a gift to welcome him again, because he couldn't do it himself, face to face.

He has always been sure of what he was doing, of the path he had chosen. He never hesitated one second, even when he was about to take a life. But everything changed when Will arrived, like a falling star burning his whole universe.

Suddenly, he was nothing but doubts. He murdered for him, _just for him_. He didn't do it for himself, to feel the claws of Death around his prey as before, but just for that lost boy. That broken soul, alone in the depths of his mind, trying to keep control of himself.

But he has always feel too much, too deeply. Hannibal could see it at anytime : the way Will always avoid staring someone right in the eyes, the way he couldn't bear when he was to close to anyone, the way he was so sensitive about everything.

That fragility had immediately interested Hannibal. He couldn't help but feel a deep fascination in front of this man. He was so curious, like a cruel kid in front of a dying bird. He wanted to play with him, and torture his mind until he finally have his last breath, exhausted.

He wanted to make him his own toy, always there for his amusement, something he could just throw away when he'll weary of him.

 

But his feelings had changed a lot since then. He tried to ignore them but they have grown so fast he just started living with them without knowing. His past fascination became an unhealthy obsession he can't control anymore.

The younger boy became the reason he's breathing. He was a drug, the kind that terrifies you, but you still want it to flow in your veins and hurt your skin violently like the unbridled sea hits the sand.

He wanted to dive into his eyes, these blue and afraid eyes. Some say that they're the mirrors of soul, and Hannibal couldn't agree more with that. Because when he stares at them, he could see the true beauty of Will's soul. They were not a peaceful summer sky-kind of blue, but more like northern lights : beautiful, dancing colors, always moving in harmony with his emotions. And he could stare at them forever, hypnotized.

He had never felt this way before, it was all new to him, and he was confused for the first time. But he was sure of one, and only one thing.

Will was his weakness. Because he could do **anything** to be with him, to be seen by him, even if that means showing his true form, and who he really was. And he knew Will felt the same way.

When they were together, they could be the real them, the animals they wanted to free for so long. This loneliness they crave to break, it was just gone. Hannibal finally thought happiness was possible for him. Because all his life, he had felt nothing. He was just numb, the emotions were just brushing against his skin sometimes, but he never let them in. But with Will, it was so different, so full of unexpected events, because Will was unpredictable. Will was making him feel more alive than ever.

That's why his betrayal hurt so much. It was like Will stabbed him right in his dead heart, and bled him to death, leaving him empty and cold. He was the only important thing in his life, and like everything before, he left him too.

Hannibal didn't want to kill him. He didn't want to _hurt_ him. But he **had** to. He had to take his control back on himself, throw away these paralysing feelings.

 

He remembers this night perfectly.

He can see _his_ back. He can hear _him_ talking to Abigail. And finally he can see _his_ face. His hair is wet, and raindrops are running on his face like tears. His eyes are wide open, brutal and devastating oceans.

He remembers putting his hand on the side of his head, slowly caressing his hair. This gesture represented so much to him, the unconditional affection he felt about Will but always restrained the best he could. He stares at him, and he doesnt want to do it, _but  h e   h a s   t o._

So he cuts him, with precision, because he exactly knows what he's doing. Will has to pay for what he has done.

He remembers taking him in his arms, holding him tight, his fingers slowly running through the man's hair, trying to appease him as his whole body is shaking of pain. His dark blood is flowing all over the floor.

Let him fall, let him go away from him, was the greatest pain Hannibal has ever felt. He just wanted to hold him forever and die with him, feeling his fragile life in his arms.

But he had to leave, to start a new life far away from the sorrow this one drowned him in.

Before he left the house, he can only remember Will's weak voice, and the broken smile on his face.

 

_I already did._

 

Hannibal was speechless, and couldn't say a thing. He changed Will, showing him his true nature, the hungry beast inside him, playing with him like a puppet.

But Will changed him too. More than ever. He made him see the world in a totally different way. He made him see the stars where he could only see the darkness. He became weak because of him.

Because Will transformed him.

 

This beautiful voice, Hannibal thought he would never hear it again. But months after, as impossible as it seems, he finally hears it.

 

_I forgive you._

 

All his soul was screaming him to find him, but he knew he couldn't trust him anymore. So he ran away. And after Will suddenly disappeared, Hannibal knew he couldn't follow him this time. He couldn't see home again, or the dark memories will devour his heart.

 

And now here he is. Contemplating his art. He knows Will is gonna be back soon in Italy, he can almost _feel_ it.

The corpse is tied with ropes, his arms are raised over his head. He had sad eyes, made of deep shades of brown, but they are now punctured, as a symbol of his blind love. Blood has painted dirty rivers on his cheeks. His chest is open and empty, except for the heart. It's still there, dark and abandoned jewel, thrown away in the ocean.

But it's not the most incredible.

In his back, Hannibal hang two immense wings. They're made of burned paper, broken glass, a few feathers he found and more ropes.

It's a miserable angel, a fallen one. He thought he had reached the sky, when he was just slowly dragged to Hell. His wings have been burned, so he could never fly again. He's stuck on the ground, unable to live again.

Hannibal sighs. He has a last look to the dead body, and feels nothing. He's not even proud of it, because it reminds him too much of what he feels inside.

He's about to leave when he hears it. It's a foreign melody, coming out of nowhere. It's pure as cristal, it's filling his whole body like a soft warmth. It's like an angel, a real one, was singing just for him. The last time he heard it, he ran. Now he turns back.

 

_"Hannibal !"_

 

He's standing there, a few feets away. Even if Hannibal observed him a few days ago, in the cathedral when Will was sitting on the steps, it was nothing compared to have him right in front of him.

He's just like he remembered. The same dark and curly hair, the same deep blue eyes, the same burning halo around him. Hannibal blinks a few times, not sure if he's real or not. There's only one to know the truth.

He slowly walks to him, and expects Will to step back. But he doesn't, he just stares at him without a word. So Hannibal extends his hand and touches Will's shoulder with fingertips. He can feel his warm skin, his bones underneath his shirt. _He's real._

Will smiles, one of those broken smile only him can do. Hannibal gets closer and puts his head on the younger man's shoulder, who does the same a few seconds after. Then Hannibal takes him in his arms, slowly, gently holding him against his chest.

He's so afraid he's just a dream, a ghost of his past here to haunt him forever, a smoke that will pass through his fingers and disappear if he holds him too tight. Like he's made of glass, 'cause if he breaks right now, he'll hurt him deeply, with million pieces siking into his heart.

He moves his head, and takes Will by the shoulders to dive into his animated, brillant eyes, and _oh_ , he wishes he could drown in that blue.

Their faces are just a few inches away, and Hannibal can feel Will's warm breathing. He puts his hand on the side of Will's face, his fingers running through his silky hair. It remembers him too much of that cursed night but he can't help it.

Hannibal's not sure anymore about what he thinks, his idea of bad and good, ugly and beautiful : only one thought obsesses him.

 

He puts his lips on Will's. And all his hidden feelings rush into him. His grief, his anger, his desire. They're all mixed into a loud melody inside his head.

Hannibal, since he knew how human flesh taste like, knew that everybody has a different taste. Some of them tasted like a red wine, strong and noble, others like champagne, soft and pure. But Will, well, he was nothing like the things he know.

He was more of a very strong alcohol, the kind that makes your head turn the second your lips touch it. Yes, he tasted like that, bronze and golden lights dancing together, like the sun through a whiskey glass.

Both could barely breathe but they didn't care.

This kiss was soft and yet addictive and violent. And they enjoyed each seconds.

They separate a minute after, but it felt like a lifetime. Just as if they travel to another world for one minute, and see paradise. And this heavenly sensation, they would kill to feel it forever.

They just stare at each other, breathing violently, quite surprised about what happened.

What will happen next ? Did this kiss really mean something ? How can this be real ?

For the moment, they push questions aside. Because in **that** moment, they were free, like someone finally break the chains that hold them down.

 

"Will you come with me now ?" Hannibal asks a few minutes of silence after.

 

Will doesn't answer, looks at the dead angel, and just offers him a smile, almost invisible, and starts walking to the door.

Hannibal follows him in the darkness, follows him everywhere.

 

Maybe all of this will end in blood and pain, but now everything was just light, and sorrow was just a distant memory floating in the cold air of Florence. The pale stars shine like diamonds thrown in the dark skies, illuminating the fusion of these two broken souls.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading my fic! Don't hesitate and leave a comment to tell me what you think about!  
> You also can share it if you want ! :)


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